Karal'e: The Twin Moons
by Michael Ivan
Summary: A warrior, a stray, a nomad and a thief all find themselves in unique situations, just as a living legend begins to terrorize the nation of Skyrim. History will decide their fates, so that they might soon change history.


AN: This is a big reboot of Karal'e, which I did for many different reasons, like dissatisfaction with my characters, lore-friendliness and general plot flow. Here it is!

_Since you asked for a story…_

_I'll keep it brief and simple. Something happened back home. Something personal. Something that built up for quite some time. So I had to run and escape it. I didn't know what else to do. I cut through the mountains, into the woods, along a river. Through the elements._

_I wanted a clean slate. Home was no place for me, anymore. My father was mad. My uncle was crazy. My mother and sister were gone. I ran to Skyrim, not sure what to hope for. Maybe I could join a caravan, if I ever found one. I didn't have a plan. I had a past to get away from._

_You see, my father is an Imperial, and a very well-paid officer. He married my mother when I was a child. He joined the Legion when he was young. He was brave, competent, and always drunk. It might sound like a life with no problems for me._

_But he married a Khajiit. He was ashamed of us. He hid us. I couldn't take that._

_He made me live with my mom in a tent in the woods, with barely a view of the White-Gold Tower through the trees. He used to see us pretty often, but after a while, he would rarely visit. I would stare up at it, wondering when he would choose to return._

_Before I left, I gazed out at it one last time, and wished I would never have to see him again._

_As for my uncle… well, there's not much to say about a raving lunatic with an obsession with the Nine. My sister and mother were gone. I couldn't stay at home. I had to leave. Everything I used to hold on to was destroyed. _That's_ why I'm here._

_What a tale for ages, huh?_

"Indeed," said Riverwood's fair innkeeper. "What do you want, now? Honningbrew?"

"Just the plain Nord," I replied. "I'm not very rich."

THE STRAY

I was wandering in the woods north of Riverwood. Just yesterday I fled in terror from Cyrodiil, but I could forget all of my troubles if I have the rustling sound of leaves on trees to settle my mind.

As I walked, I found the sounds of the wind joined by the rushing water of a river. It was a rapid, which gushed water into a lower pool. I saw the dartwings flying above the surface, and began to think of what might be swimming underneath…

My stomach growled at the thought. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten. I peeled my clothing off and dove in. It's the only way I learned to hunt, so why not?

Feeling the water envelop me was nothing new, but that day, it felt especially soothing. It felt like a massage of fluid fingers through my sandy-colored fur. All of the stress that was building up had finally peaked. I could feel my worries descend into the depths. I've lost everything, and I need to start over, but I can hunt. I can craft potions. I can get by. I'll be fine.

I opened my eyes to search for fish. I thought of what I might find. _Salmon for dinner… and a Perch, if I'm lucky. I'm gonna need a strong stamina potion._

I glanced upstream. I was surprised at how much longer the river seemed underwater. I saw fish out on the other side, gathered close to the falls. I tried to swim towards them, but found myself struggling against the flow in a losing battle. I rose back to the surface, turned around, and took a quick breath of fresh air before the next set of falls pulled me down.

The water's hold became a grasp. I was pulled through the rapids like I'd been tied to a wild horse. I sank deeper and deeper, until I fell through the bottom, landing in a distant place from a distant memory.

It was a long path through the woods.

I was chasing something. I didn't know what.

With no sense, I began to run.

I heard giggling up ahead. Child-like and youthful, like myself.

The trees sped past with quickening pace. My legs propelled me faster and faster. I could see him now. He was a young boy. A very fast kid. I felt my world getting smaller, and the boy disappeared. The shadows darkened, the sky faded, and I stopped, finding myself on the path from home. How did I get here?

I looked back towards Cyrodiil. I was tired and hungry, but the pain wasn't worth the rest. I remembered what I saw. I recalled the things I heard. My memories swam through the murky waters in my mind, and I found myself unable to breathe.

I was drowning.

My eyes shot open and my heart skipped a beat. I pushed myself up and up towards the surface, finally reaching air.

I pulled myself on to the shore of the river and collapsed in a heaving mess. Gods, I looked pathetic. I must've been pulled pretty far downstream, because I noticed a small shack nearby, with a porch over the river. The pelts decorating it showed that it might be a hunter's home. I got up onto my knees when I heard a voice behind me.

"You okay, there?"

I yelped and fell face-forward. Great. Another mouthful of dirt.

"Seriously," she said, "What just happened?"

"I must've… blacked out in the river," I replied, holding back a raspy cough. "This one was trying to catch fish to eat."

She stood for a moment, arms folded. Couldn't blame her for lacking a response. "…I guess I could treat you to something. Just don't _try_ anything."

"Don't worry. You can count on that."

The porch had a pretty lovely view of the river. It seemed like the hunter fished from it, with one of the few fishing rods lined up against the railing. She returned from the fire with a salmon steak and set it in front of me.

"Do I owe you any explanation…?" I asked before digging in.

"No, I guess not," she said as she sat in the chair across from me. "But you're gonna be here at least a few hours…"

"And being silent would be awkward. Gotcha." I took a bite of the salmon. It tasted faintly of tomatoes, which she must've mixed in. "I'm afraid I'm not that interesting, though."

"I'm not so sure about that. You don't really speak with an accent…"

"…which everyone tells me." I glanced towards her, then back down to my dinner.

"Well, it's… strange."

"Hmph. Maybe." Being raised by an Imperial father must've led to my inherited speaking habits, I realized.

The faint sounds of nature surrounded us, but my ears wouldn't deceive me; something odd was breaking it. I glanced up at the hunter, who looked like she might've heard it, too. She seemed about to dismiss it when she met my gaze. "You heard that?"

"Sounded like… wings…"

I heard it again, but louder. I could hear where it was coming from. It drew nearer and nearer until a shadow had been cast upon us, bringing our attention to a massive shadow soaring through the sky towards the south.

"By the Gods," she gasped. "Now, that is a _huge_ bird."

I looked back at her in disbelief. "Do you really think…?"

"What else could it be?" She seemed pretty sure about herself. Although I felt the need to worry, I tried to push the fairy tales my mother had told me into my past. After all, they were only just that: Fairy tales.

THE AGILE

Madesi the Argonian.

Madesi the shopkeeper.

Madesi the _jeweler_. Yes, that sounds better.

What lovely jewelry you sell.

Beautiful baubles, indeed, my old friend.

Sitting there, at the edge of your stand? Looks like a fine gold sapphire necklace.

It would be shame if somebody… stole it.

I hopped over the fence, guards very close by. Dashing down the alleyway is always no problem. I even had time to spare to glance back as the guards fumbled with the gate.

Why was I running? Well, I fucking _stole it_.

Turning the corner, I saw the graveyard, a collection of headstones with bunches of nightshade. I ran to the rear wall of Riften's defense to grab a rock. As I dashed through the gate of the cemetery, I lugged it at the button in the rear tomb and dove through the hole in the floor that was slowly sliding to reveal itself.

I kinda hit my head on the interior wall, but hey, I pulled it off!

I looked up through the gap, made sure I heard nobody coming, and pulled a chain to the side to close it back up.

I entered the cistern, located below the city of Riften. It's a room with a dome shaped ceiling that tapers down the edges of the room, much like the tavern that disguises the place. Left and right, thieves drank, trained, and bragged about their latest claims.

That's not to give the false impression that this place is functional. The Thieves Guild of Riften is disjointed. Our influence over the city used to be tremendous, but nowadays, the towering businesswoman Maven Black-Briar has reduced us to just another one of her tools.

As soon as Brynjolf saw me, he approached me. It wasn't an ordinary approach. He strode with a purpose, at a pace that I've learned to fear. He couldn't have good news for me.

He stopped in front of me. He looked concerned, like he had something to say, but it was caught in his throat. "Where were you, Rodryck?"

"I was out on a job."

"Listen…" Another warning sign. He drew the word out a bit, like he was dreading his next statement. "You're one of our best. You really are. Few people here are as productive. But…"

"But… what?"

"…You need to get out."

"Out…?" That word sank my heart lower into my chest. "Am I… are you letting me go?"

"Actually, that's… exactly how I'd put it." His apprehension dissolved in his expression. "I don't want you to leave, but you need to go. This is serious. We've gotten a tip about Maven Black-Briar. She performed the Black Sacrament, and she had a list of targets…"

I didn't need him to clarify to understand what that meant for me. Either I leave Riften, or I die by the blade of an assassin. There was still the question of why, and of how Brynjolf acquired this bit of info… but I couldn't concern myself with that. I needed to go home, get my sister… and leave, as fast as possible.

"I'll just grab my things…"

I walked along the railing, looking up at the sunset, and back down at how it shaded the trees and buildings, and the people I had gotten so used to. Was it really time to leave all of this? I suppose I had no choice…

When I first arrived here after leaving Cyrodiil, I wanted to work with the area blacksmith, but that didn't work out. I had to turn to less honest means.

I reached the stairs that led deeper into the canal. The water smelled like fish and Gods know what else. It's even worse smelling it when you're trying to get some sleep. I reached my door – the one closest to the stairway – and shoved the door open. Harder than I usually had to. My sister, Helen, was waiting inside. She could see the emptiness on my face. I didn't want to explain this to her.

"Maven's put out a contract for me… We need to leave."

THE WANDERER

I'm new.

This caravan experience is fresh and unfamiliar, but in the best of ways.

Only a few months into my life here, and I'm already used to the routine, the practice, and the people that surround me. I think I've grown. Growth is change, and change is constructive. Good and bad.

Those were the words of Ri'saad – the old man at the head of all of Skyrim's caravans – said to me when I first came in looking for work. I was nervous, you see. Change doesn't come easy for me. That's why it takes reminders to keep myself going.

We were an interesting band. We have Ahkari, the fair lady at the head of our caravan: Zaynabi, our fence with the Thieves Guild; Dro'marash, our light fighter…

Then there's Kharjo. Me. The apprentice and heavy warrior with a bite and endurance.

The caravan needed me, at the time. The road between Riften and Markarth is a dangerous one, filled with all kinds of beasts that require a strong band of fighters to overcome. Their hopes were that I would make the trip easier. A battleaxe doesn't bounce off of skulls. It chops them clean in two. Can you say that isn't useful when fighting a frost troll?

Little did I know, one day, that I'd be putting my own skills to use at our own campsite outside Riften.

We were setting up outside the city gates. I'd put my Moon Amulet away in my knapsack some time ago. An heirloom from my family, it had a very unique design and some sort of energy about it that made it irreplaceable.

_"Ssh!"_

Zaynabi was the first to hear it. It was something in the bushes. She and I froze in place, and instinctively, the other two followed.

Arms short from the bushes and pulled Dro'marash back. Someone tried to grab Ahkari, but she was too strong for them to take. They weren't well-armored, but incredibly well-practiced and precise.

I pounced on top of Dro'marash's attacker, and was able to wrestle him out of her grip. Without fighting back, the enemy had retreated.

No. They'd _disappeared._

Turning back, I'd realized just what I'd missed in my distraction. They ruined all of our tents, stole most of our supplies, and Zaynabi was nowhere to be seen.

This is worse than what I had been told to expect.

I tried to bring Dro'marash to his feet, but he was too weak to stand. I eased him back down to the ground.

"Where did they hurt you?" I asked, checking his joints. I squeezed his knee lightly.

"ACK! There! Gods _damn_ it…" He bent forward and clung to my arm. I wasn't sure if it was for comfort, or to simply get my arm away from his damned knee. Knowing my clan brother well, it was probably the latter.

Later in the day, Akhari left for supplies to cover food, and a healing potion for my brother. This left time for us to fully absorb what had happened.

"We're through," he said, shoving the words out.

"What do you mean, we're through?"

"Look at this." We waved his arm out at our ruined tents. "We can't run this caravan, anymore. We have nothing. They took all of our food and knapsacks while we weren't looking! _Bastards_…"

"They took _everything?_" I turned to my tent, seeing that my bag wasn't there. "Oh, Gods…"

"What?"

I ran over to my tent. It definitely wasn't there. "My amulet..."

"They took it?" He winced, still holding his hands to his knee.

I knew the answer was "yes". I couldn't get the word out. It was my only cherished possession. The only part of my past I could cling to. Why would they take this from me?

"What kind of people were they, anyway?" he asked, seeming to ignore me. "Those weren't bandits. There's no way. They weren't assassins, either, or else they wouldn't have bothered to let us live."

"They've ruined our livelihood, and _this_ is what you care about!?" With my head in my hands, holding back a flow of tears, I mumbled, "I hope she comes back with good news."

"Well, here she comes," he said. Ahkari jogged over, looking winded. "Anything?"

She grasped her forehead, panting. She dropped a large sack by the main tent's remains. "I've got what I left for, but something's happened. The guards are on edge."

"What's gotten into them?"

"You wouldn't believe it, but… You remember the town of Helgen?" I nodded. Akhari just looked up at him, knowing the news couldn't be good. "It's… gone. All gone. They've been attacked. They're saying… They said it was a dragon."

I shook my head. Did those words really just leave her mouth? "How can that be?"

"Khajiit has no idea. The town is far away from here, but in the neighboring hold. It sounded like they were unsure of how to prepare." She stood up straighter, having regained enough of her vigor. "In any case, if we keep ourselves safe from now on, it shouldn't impact us."

"What do we plan to do? We can't operate the caravan like this."

"We'll need to take a carriage to Whiterun. Hopefully, Ri'saad's caravan will be there, and we can arrange… something." She walked closer to the pile of lumber we had prepared for a fire. "There's a carriage over by the gates that could take us there. I think we should."

Moments later, the three of us boarded the carriage. I had to help Dro'marash board it, hoisting him up from his backside while Ahkari pulled him up. It was covered in a tarp, so it was rather dark inside. We had to wait for a few hours, since the carriage driver had business to attend to. We stayed silent for most of that time. It gave the reality of our situation enough time to fully grasp us.

Ahkari eventually fell asleep on one of the benches. Dro'marash and I were on opposite sides of our remaining sack of supplies. With his head leaning against it, it looked like he was ready to doze off, as well. My eyelids felt heavy. I was ready to join them.

Until I heard someone climbing the edge.

_"Come on, the driver isn't even here!"_

_"You're an idiot, Rodryck. What if there are people in there!?"_

_"It's a supply carriage. Look at the tarp! Now are you gonna follow me up here _tonight_, or what?"_

Ahkari opened her eyes. Dro'marash was still sleeping like a rock. I saw the tarp's edge move.

_"Now, come on, I'll help you in."_

_"I don't _need_ help, brother. I can handle myself."_

_"Fine. Then, uh… help _me_, please?"_

_"If you say so."_

_"NO NO WAIT, DON'T DO THAT-"_

**_THUNK_**

Ahkari and I couldn't believe what we were seeing. Having a shady Breton man fall on you… now that's ONE way to wake someone up.

The stranger looked up at Dro'marash's scowling face. "Uh… hitching a ride?"

I rubbed my eyes, groaning. "This is gonna be a _very_ unpleasant trip..."

THE WARRIOR

Today's checklist.

1. Wake up. Always a tough one.

2. Speak to Irileth about my horrible armor upgrade.

3. Wait for her to argue – again – about limited means: Tell her to fuck herself.

4. Train.

All: check.

Except I never _finished_ the last one. A soldier sent from Helgen interrupted our training. The news was pretty startling. Irileth told us not to bother repeating our training exercises for the morning, because now, it was time to put them to use.

Thing is, I don't think "sifting through rubble to find survivors that aren't there" was ever in the training regimen.

I shouldn't be joking so much about a tragedy. A tragedy about a living myth, no less. But nobody's gonna read my journal, right?

Everyone in the Legion knows not to fuck with me. I'm ruthless. Daring. Brave. "Everything your father was," in Irileth's words. Anyone who steps out of line or gets on my nerves – usually new recruits – get a steel boot to the groin, which I can and _do_.

In an army of mostly men… that reputation keeps me safe.

I actually kind of have a routine of finding some excuse to boot new soldiers in the balls just to serve as an example. They need to know me quick, and that's short, sweet, and proven effective. Even though I haven't been here for more than a year, I'm the most respected soldier in the Hold.

If that was too long, let me sum it up for you: Don't fuck with Lydia.

But you're my journal, so you already knew that.

My reputation earned me the spot as the leader of combat during the Helgen expedition. Irileth trusted me to handle it well and was hoping I could get more field experience. What a lesson in boredom it was.

Before long, it was time to leave. I was pretty silent. I didn't feel there was much more to say after kicking a wall to express myself. We headed down the road and back through Riverwood. The same way we came. We passed through the small, homely town set on the bank of a river. Many people noticed the increased presence of local guards and the rare presence of Imperial soldiers. With the dragon attack happening just off the road, we needed to take safety measures.

I looked around at the concerned villagers and turned to face my men.

"All right… I know you're probably all tired from walking. That scenic view must've been exhausting. Everyone in town is probably scared out of their wits…" I turned to look at a young boy who was holding his dog. Hopefully, he didn't hear anything too specific. "…Try to spend some time reassuring them. A few words can go a long way."

"How unlike you, Lydia. Kindness!?" exclaimed the dead meat soldier to the left.

"Funny. Go talk the kid over there. Have fun." As the soldiers dispersed, joining other guards who were already answering or brushing off questions, I noticed a Khajiit leaning against the side of the town's inn. I approached him and struck a quick conversation to keep time going. "Hey there."

He looked up briefly to say "hi" before looking back at the dirt.

"…What're you up to?"

"Well." He swept his arms out, as if to call attention to something in front of him. "As you can see… not much."

"So… you're in town for no reason?"

"For all you know, this one could live here." He paused a few moments, shifting his back and shoulders. "But it seems unlikely, doesn't it? No, I'm not from here."

His accent hooked my curiosity a bit. I noticed a bit of Imperial right away, but it still held a twang of Khajiit. I decided to simply ignore it. A Khajiit with such an unusual mix of accents probably gets this question often enough. "Obviously you've heard the news."

He nodded with a slight hint of smugness on his face. "Yeah, you could definitely say that. From just about everybody in town. News usually doesn't travel so quickly."

"This isn't any ordinary news. Sir…?"

"Oh. Karal'e." He looked at me, as though inspecting my outfit. "You leading the soldiers, here?"

"Well, they can't lead themselves, that's for sure." I turned around to look at the other soldiers and quickly make a count to make sure they remembered to stay within my sight, as is standard practice. "I don't do this often, though. I'm not as important as this mission probably makes me look."

"Really? You have the… aura, I guess, of leadership."

"Wow… Thanks, I guess."

A few moments of awkward silence passed.

He was the one to break it. "So, that attack…"

"Yeah?"

"Pretty unfortunate."

"Yep."

A few more moments.

"So… what _have_ you heard?

"A few things." He looked up at the clouds as they passed. "A dragon blew Helgen to dust, nobody survived, this town might be screwed… Oh! And the flapping of its wings as it passed on its way to its next banquet."

"You _saw_ it!?" My exclamation was loud enough to catch the attention of a nearby guard.

"Yeah, its underside. It was passing _above_ me, and the sun made it tough to see anything but its outline."

"But did you see where it _came from?_"

He looked like we was trying to recall the memory. He pointed towards the nearby mountains. "Around there. One of those mountain peaks. Not the tallest one."

"Well that's good. If it came from that one, we'd have to go knocking on the Greybeards' door…" I turned to the guard next to me. "…and _nobody_ wants to go on that trip."

"Good thing you won't have to," he added. I was surprised he knew about them.

"Probably not," I replied. "Unless you're wrong."

The guard uncrossed his arms and tapped Lydia on the shoulder. "We should be heading to Whiterun. The Jarl will want to hear this, for sure."

"Right," I said, nodding. She put her hands to her hips and addressed me. "We'll need you there to speak for what you said." The gates to the city were closed to outsiders, but I knew I could get him in, no problem.

"That sounds… great!" He spoke with surprise. He probably didn't get to places like Whiterun, let alone the Cloud District.

"All right, then." I gazed up at the sky; specifically, the position of the sun. "We should be able to get there by nightfall if we leave right now."

I didn't realize until I got there that I shouldn't just be taking some random Khajiit into Dragonsreach. I knew Irileth would be pissed, but as usual… I didn't care.


End file.
